


The Crown of Pride

by Cloudsky331



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudsky331/pseuds/Cloudsky331
Summary: chapter 1 of a lesbian princess story I started and never had the inspiration to complete. Was a 2019 nanowrimo project.It's about lesbian princesses and magic n shiz I don't have the energy to do a real summary just take it on good faith it's very gay





	The Crown of Pride

Sometimes it felt like I knew everything. I didn’t, of course. I was only one seventeen-year-old girl in a world full of scholars and brilliant minds. But I was well educated. I had to be, as the heir to the throne of a large, successful kingdom. The Kingdom of Stolt. There wasn’t a better kingdom to live in. We had always had excellent rulers who did whatever it took to keep our kingdom safe. And it seemed I was on track to be one of those rulers. After all, I had the knowledge of hundreds of years of the kingdom’s history behind me. As Queen, it would be my job to hold up the kingdom in its times of difficulty and to help it thrive in peaceful times. I would be the one in control of everything. The army, the politics with the other kingdoms, and everything else that came with it. But today, no war or famine or drought seemed nearly as daunting to me as hosting the Midwinter Ball. The ball is always held at the end of January, in the darkest part of the winter. The holiday was established early in the kingdom’s history. One particularly compassionate Queen created the holiday after seeing how hopeless and sad her kingdom seemed. The holiday quickly caught on, and ever since then, every kingdom has celebrated it in their own way. In Stolt, we held dances and balls and singing contests among the upper class, and the citizens had celebrations amongst themselves. The crowning jewel of it all was this ball. The Queens and Kings and Heirs of all kingdoms came for one night, to experience the grandeur of the richest kingdom. Everyone was dressed in the finest clothes you’ve ever seen. Dramatic, sweeping ball gowns and glossy black capes on the shoulders of men and women alike, vying for the favor of the royals surrounding them. The women tried to worm their way into the Queens’ and the Heirs’ favor, and daft young men offered the kings fine wine or ale. This would be my first ball, my debut as the heir of Stolt. You weren’t allowed to attend until you were 16, and the year before, I was sick in bed and couldn’t do much besides lay yearning for the chance to dance with nobles and taste the immaculately made pastries. Most of all, I ached to wear my beautiful dress. It was a perfect dress. Mother had found the best seamstress in the kingdom just to make it. The top was tightly fit just to my body, the cups of the bodice curving into a sweetheart neckline. The sleeves were nothing but slips of silk fabric flowing over my shoulders- mostly just for show. At my waist, the dress widened, accommodating large hoops and petticoats to hold out the thin silk leaves of the skirt. On me, the color and sheen of the sunshine yellow silk gave the impression of a brightly lit candle flickering against dark brown skin. My mother had also bought jewelry and a new crown to match. The whole ensemble was absolutely gorgeous. Though I hadn’t been able to wear it that year, now was my chance to shine in it. But I didn’t want to put it on. I didn’t want to deal with the chattering crowds and painfully airheaded Ladies and Dukes and Duchesses vying for my attention and my favor. They knew how powerful I’d be one day and they wanted to impress me, to be in my line of sight when I took the throne. None of them really wanted to be my friend. No, they just wanted my power. “Freya? What’s the holdup?” I jumped at the sound of my sister’s voice. “Sorry, Iris! I’m getting ready,” I replied, my voice waving in anxiety. I heard the telltale click of the door handle being turned and saw a white dress being pushed through the doorway. Our hoops were always a little larger than the doorway, so we had to pause and tug our dresses through before we could get into a room. Iris didn’t mind, but I did. “Freya, you’re not even dressed! We’re supposed to be presented in an hour!” She sighed and shut the door behind her. She was right. I was still standing and pacing the room in my undergarments. I would have been embarrassed, but Iris and I were close. We always had been, so we’d certainly seen each other in all manners of undress. “I know. I’m just scared.” The sound of my low tone resonated in my chest, forcing me to acknowledge the hard pounding of my heart. Iris gave a small sigh and sat me down on the bed. My fingers ran over the delicate silk sheets and drew little flowery patterns and I watched the fabric curl under my fingertips. I didn’t dare look up and see the disappointment on my sister’s face. “I know. But you know as well as I do that you can’t just keep hiding in this room. You’ll have to grit your teeth and get down there eventually.” She wrapped her arm around me and held me tight as she spoke. Leaning on her, I could feel the vibrations of her chest as she spoke. It was a small comfort against the weight of the words she said next, “Come on, Freya, let’s get you dressed.” Together, we pulled the strings of my corset tight and slid me into the heavy ballgown. My hair was brushed and glossed until the thick curls hung in tight coils all around my head. A newly-made tiara was gently placed on my scalp and secured with well-hidden pins. The whole time, I was chewing the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. Every once in awhile, Iris took a moment to squeeze my shoulder or give a sympathetic look. She was as quiet as I was and the only sound in the room was our breathing and the rasp of the hairbrush. We both knew how important this night was. This night could define my relationships with other kingdoms. Or, I could find potential suitors. The social relationships of a Queen were delicate. One slip up and disaster could strike. Iris could, of course, tell that I was feeling the pressure. She paused her fussing with my hair to put a hand on my shoulder and say, “You’ll be alright. It’s only one night.” I smiled and patted her hand in thanks, but even my dear sister, who always seemed to know exactly what to do, couldn’t calm my overwhelming anxiety. I hid my shaking hands behind my back as we walked single file down the entrance hallway to the ballroom. Mother and Father stood at the doorway, immaculately dressed in their own hand-made outfits. Mother scanned both of us, looking for the slightest imperfections. It’s all in the details, she always said. She hitched up her skirt and walked over to me. Her posture was maddeningly perfect and she moved with a kind of ease and grace that I had definitely not inherited. “Straighten your necklace Iris, and my goodness Freya, how many times must I remind you not to slouch?” Her voice was unusually breathy as she brushed some invisible dirt from my dress and straightened out the sleeves. I bit my lip to avoid groaning and stood up taller and straighter, as my mother had commanded. “Right. You’ll do. Remember girls, speak confidently and stand tall,” Mother said, giving a rare smile just for us. “Freya won’t have a problem with that.” Iris snorted. I stuck my elbow into her side in reply. She was right though—at six foot five, I wouldn’t have any trouble appearing commanding. I stood five inches taller than my mother and three inches above my sister. Everyone in our family was tall, it was the way things were. Some people said that the power our family held made us stand taller. The pride of our ever successful kingdom was so great that even the people were built tall and strong. In reality, it was probably just a family resemblance. But still, it was hard to deny that there was something different in our blood that made us this way. “It’s time to go in. Get into place, girls.” Mother said, stepping to the front of our little procession. She and Father would go down first as the Queen and King with Iris as the youngest sister to follow and finally, me. I couldn’t tell you why it was ordered that way, but it was and had been for generations and generations before me and would likely continue that way for endless generations to come. “Her royal highness, Queen Elisabeth of Stolt, accompanied by King Jun of Stolt.” Mother and Father began the procession, gracefully descending the huge staircase that swept out into the ballroom. Thunderous applause and fanfare followed, as was expected to welcome the royals. There were few that didn’t love and revere my mother, or at least her power. “Her royal highness, Princess Iris of Stolt.” Iris turned to flash a quick smile at me before stepping down the stairs, gracing the ballroom with her elegance and beauty. She seemed to glow as she descended. “Her royal highness, Princess Freya of Stolt, heir to the throne of the kingdom of Stolt.” My heart leaped up into my throat as I stepped forward. It took an immense amount of concentration to keep myself from slipping and falling down the perfectly shined and polished marble stairs. I hardly heard the crowds cheering and shouting my name as I descended. Back straight, shoulders set, chin high, smile brightly, walk with confidence and grace. I’d been taught how to make a proper entrance at a young age and I’d never forgotten the words my first etiquette teacher had pounded into my head. And that was it. I was at the bottom of the stairs, my sister by my side. No major accidents. Not even a slip. My smile grew a little more real as I realized that I’d made it through perfectly well. Iris gave me a quick nod, clearly proud of me as well, but not speaking of it in front of other people. I craned my neck to search the crowd for Mother, but she was already gone, likely to catch up with old friends she could only see this once a year. I had no such friends. I was on my own to make my way through the swirling crowd of hoopskirts. I felt dizzy as I mapped out my route to the refreshments table. If I could get there, take a drink, and compose myself, all would be fine. Nobody would suspect a thing. So, I pasted on a smile and worked my way through the crowd. Lords and Ladies stepped aside and bowed or curtsied respectfully in my direction as I plunged through the sea of human bodies. Nobody stopped me on my way. I had to thank my old etiquette teacher, then, for teaching me that when a princess walks through a crowd and does not speak, she is not be interrupted. It was a piece of knowledge I’d made useful many times over the years. The crowd thinned around the table and I felt myself let out a shaky breath. I’d made it. My hand was shaking rather violently as I grabbed the ladle and a cup. The soft pink strawberry lemonade-my favorite- was almost instantly calming. I poured the lemonade into my glass and didn’t hesitate to gulp it up. That was a mistake. Somehow I had overlooked the fact that this was a royal ball thrown by my father- of course, the drink would be heavily alcoholic. “Princess Freya?” I almost choked as I heard someone speak behind me. I whirled around and nearly spilled my glass all over myself, from sheer surprise. It was a girl. Another princess, from the looks of that tiara. She, like me, was dressed to the nines in a silk dress. But hers was a soft pink that perfectly matched her pale, rosy skin and fiery red hair. Her eyes were icy blue and her whole face small and almost childlike. Her skin was covered in a layer of brown freckles that seemed to me like the stars in the night sky, forming intricate constellations that I could barely understand. In short terms, she was gorgeous. Like, seriously beautiful. It took a moment for me to remember how to function as a human being. I caught myself and dropped into a deep curtsy. I watched my hands shake even more as I placed my cup gently back onto the table behind me. “Yes?” I answered, extremely conscious of my unsteady voice. “Ah, Princess Freya, I’m Princess Eva from the kingdom of Offund. I thought I’d introduce myself to you.” Her voice seemed to match her appearance, rosy and soft and warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Princess Eva. You’re one of our staying guests, right?” I answered clumsily. “Yes. Our kingdom is suffering a small drought, so the royal family has vacated our palace and re-directed our own water supply to that of the rest of the country. We’ll be staying here until further notice.” She replied. I nodded. I’d been briefed on the drought of Offund and the royal family’s plan. It seemed strange to me that there could be any sort of drought in our land. We were surrounded by the ocean. Heavy rain was common. But who was I to question mother nature? “Well, you’re very much welcome here. We're always happy to have visitors.” I said. “Your kingdom has always been very generous. Especially with their drink, as I found out from the punch.” She replied, holding out her own glass. We both gave soft laughs, and her cheeks seemed to flush darker than before. “Yes, my father does love his ale. We have an impressive wine cellar.” I said. I snorted and quickly put my hand over my mouth. Mother always said, snorting like a pig was the furthest thing from ladylike one could imagine. It only took a moment for both of us to burst into laughter. “Oh, Princess Freya, might I suggest we go outside and cool down before we embarrass ourselves further.” She suggested in a hushed voice, smiling all the while. I nodded and grabbed her hand. Our glasses were discarded and we pushed our way through the crowd, never letting our hands drop. I led her to our coat room and took two thick fur coats. Both were Mother’s, I knew. Only she would leave something so luxurious and expensive in a coatroom. It was her way of showing off, just a little. We giggled as we piled the coats on our bare shoulders and snuck out the side palace door, to the garden. The cold winter wind nipped at our noses and danced along our flushed and warm faces. Little snowflakes pelted us and sprinkled into our hair and the fur of our coats. We giggled and watched our breath make little clouds of steam in the freezing air. “My mother would be absolutely appalled to see me out here in the freezing cold, without a veil,” I said. I dropped my voice low to imitate my mother’s deep timbre; “Young lady! Haven’t you anything better to do than traipse around the courtyard, mussing your dress?” We both giggled as we stepped further into the dark night, shivering slightly. “It’s dark. How are we meant to do anything fun in the dark?” Eva commented. “Wait,” I replied, groping around through the darkness until my hand hit the cold metal lamppost. I slid my hand up, finding the tiny metal switch, and flipped it. All at once, light poured into the small courtyard, courtesy of the wonder of electricity, something even my rich family hesitated before installing. But it had been worth it, really. This lightbulb was so much better than an old-fashioned candle. “Woah. I’ve heard about these electric lights. I wish we had them in my kingdom,” Her voice was high and breathy as she stared at the bright bulb in its glass case. “They’re rather helpful. We have a few in the castle and more on the streets. They’ve helped reduce crime, actually.” I added, leading her to a nearby bench. It was rather old and rickety, but I had fond memories of it. With both of us on it, it seemed a lot smaller than I remembered. We squished together, our shoulders rubbing up on each other. Our giggles rose up as clouds of steam in the freezing air. It felt like hours that we sat there, recounting stories from our childhoods and talking about everything and anything that popped into our heads. It must’ve been the drink that made us bold, eager to spill out every part of ourselves. Our dreams, our hopes, our fears. “At the end of the day, I just want to do right by my kingdom. You know, be the leader they need.” Eva said. I picked my head up off of her shoulder and looked at her. “I have no doubt you will be. You’re brave, kind, and you’re passionate.” I replied, enchanted by the way her eyes shone in the lamplight. And the way her smile made me feel warm and cozy inside- as if I could stay out here all night and not even feel the icy cold air. “You, too,” she murmured. She seemed like she was distracted by something. Like she was focusing on something more than the conversation. But she was looking only at me. My Father taught me about impulses, once. He said that an impulse was an act of fate, not controlled by us. Mother nature taking the reigns and taking action. I believed him for most of my life. But at that moment, I knew exactly what I was doing. Nothing took over me. It was me and only me that brushed back a loose strand of her beautiful orange hair. It was me that ran my finger gently along her jaw and placed my hand on her bright pink cheek. It was me that leaned in and touched my lips to hers. I was the one that felt her soft lips under my own. I was the one that kissed her. She tasted like apple juice and peach. I wasn’t sure what I tasted like, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have possibly tasted as good as her. Nothing could feel so good, so right, as kissing her. There was nothing else in the world but her me in the swirling white snow. The world was ice but we were fire. We were an oasis in a desert, like the ones I’d been taught about. We were everything in a world of nothing. The kiss ended far too quickly for my liking. One glance at her told me that she had felt it, too. That mysterious force pulling us together. The pure wanting- oh, what’s the word? Desire. The desire to stay there forever and feel nothing but each other. “Freya? Freya, where are you?” My sister’s voice startled me and I bolted up onto my feet. I shook my head to compose myself and took a deep breath. “I’m here, Iris,” I shouted, grabbing Eva’s hand and pulling her up towards my sister’s voice. “Why are you outside? It’s freezing. Come inside and warm up. And who’s that with you?” She fussed, pulling me inside the wide doorway and brushing the snow off of me. “Calm down, Iris. We’re fine.” I muttered as I shut the door behind us, trying to avoid slamming it. We didn’t need unwanted attention right now. “I swear, Mother would have killed-” Iris stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes seemed to pop out of her head as she looked up and saw the golden tiara nestled in Eva’s hair. Ever the dutiful princess, Iris stopped herself and curtsied politely. She put on her best I-messed-up-and-I’m-fixing-it smile. “My sincerest apologies Princess. I wasn’t sure who you were at first.” She continued quickly. “Oh, no worries. I mean, I accept your apology.” Eva replied, doing a quick and clumsy curtsy. She seemed as shaken as I felt. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment while Eva brushed snow off of her dress and Iris fussed over the minuscule water stains. I hadn’t had the time to process what had just happened. Everything had gone so fast that it was jumbled and confused in my head. I wanted nothing more than to go to my room and lay down and think everything through. No such luck for me, though. Iris whisked me away to replace my wet dress and brush the snow from my hair- and to give me a lecture. “Goodness knows what might have happened to you out there, Freya. And with another Princess! I can’t fault you for building up a personal friendship with another heir- that’s wise, actually. But did you have to take her outside in the freezing cold? She’ll be here for more than a month. I can’t believe it. It’s a good thing you grabbed those coats. You saved her dress from the worst of it. She’s still presentable, at least.” Iris blabbed on and on with no end in sight. I didn’t speak. I was still trying to sort out what happened and what I had been thinking. I kissed another princess. There was a very, very clear law, one of the few that all the kingdoms had agreed upon, decades ago. I knew it like the back of my hand. Heirs from separate kingdoms may not under any circumstances marry. We weren’t exactly marrying, but it was still frowned upon to be romantically involved with other heirs in general. It wasn’t a common issue, but it was one that had a clearly stated outcome. Heirs that were seriously romantically involved could lose their thrones. My family would be absolutely disgraced if I were to break that. Beyond disgraced. Our kingdom was built on pride. We took pride in everything. In our successes and in our trials. In our appearances and in our secrets. We were born tall and strong and lived in complete confidence because of our pride. How could we possibly find pride in an heir being stripped of her title? It would look terrible for all of us. The royal family and the kingdom as a whole. Not to mention, my own future would be compromised. I bit my lip to avoid a long sigh and turned my attention back to my sister’s babbling. “There. You’re all clean again. And this is a beautiful dress, although not as bright as the last, it’s very festive,” Iris said, inspecting me for any remaining dots of snow. Finally, she stepped back, satisfied, and looked at me for confirmation that I was ready. The new dress was white, lacy, and trimmed with a light blue and gold. The colors of the Midwinter Holiday. I looked as lovely in it as I had in the first one. My mouth hung open for a moment, fully intending to say, ‘I look great’ or ‘Thank you, Iris’. Instead, what came out of my mouth was, “I kissed her.” That was an impulse. Iris stared at me for a moment, as if she didn’t understand what I meant. “I kissed Eva. We were tipsy. It just happened out of nowhere.” I added. “I don’t even know what to say. You are a real piece of work, Freya Stolt." She shook her head and continued, "Just go talk to some important people and we’ll sort this out tomorrow.” So I did. I met queens and kings and princes and princesses. Dukes and Duchesses and Ladies and Lords. They all seemed shallow in comparison to Eva. None of them have a passion for gardening as she did. None of them sometimes snuck out to ride the royal horses. None of them had the same lithe grace that Eva had. I practically floated on clouds as I danced, imagining the gorgeous redhead in my arms rather than the scrawny princes and bulky muscled soldiers. I danced with dukes and duchesses and nobility of all kinds, from all places. I did as I had been taught and carefully remembered names and titles and faces. It was surreal- I remembered what I needed to remember and little else. Eva ran through my head like a dancer on a music box, spinning around and around with a sparkly little tune to match. I deliberately drank just a few sips more of the punch. I hoped that I would forget this whole night. Then, I could start over in the morning and move on and make better choices. I needed to start over and make better choices. For several reasons. For starters, it was illegal for a princess to marry into another kingdom. Not that I saw myself marrying Eva. I just met her. How could I be in love with someone I just met? I wasn’t. I thought back to when my mother had talked to me several years ago, about choosing a partner when I was ready. She warned me against infatuation or strong feelings based on appearance. It’s one thing to be attracted to someone, and another thing entirely to actually be in love. It’s infatuation. Attraction. That was all it was. That was all it could be. By the end of the night, I had rationalized everything in my head. We were unusually warm from the drink and hadn’t thought appropriately about going outside. We talked and shared our experiences because the alcohol dulled our wits and made us looser and more open. Very normal, not at all a problem. The kiss was for the same reason. Just attraction and alcohol. I was satisfied with these answers. They made sense in my head. And, despite still being a little drunk, they seemed to hold up to normal reasoning. “Are you ready to talk about your little escapade tonight?” Iris asked. The moment we had stepped back into the privacy of her room after formally exiting the ball, she asked it. I sighed heavily. “Iris, I’m drunk and tired. I don’t want to deal with this right now.” I replied, pulling out hairpins. “You gave up the right to not deal with it when you kissed a princess.” She insisted, not even starting to take out her own accessories. “I thought you said we could talk about it in the morning,” I grumbled as I unclipped my necklace and set it down on the vanity. “I changed my mind. Take out your earrings and sit down.” She placed her hand on my shoulder as she spoke. I bit my lip and avoided groaning. When my sister wanted something, she got it. “Fine. We both had big sips of the punch and got drunk. We went outside because we were hot and didn’t want to embarrass ourselves. We talked and kissed because the alcohol made us relaxed. I’m attracted to her, but from now on, I’m not going to let it affect me. I’m the heir of Stolt first.” I explained myself quickly and concisely. I raised my eyebrow as if to say, Am I done now? Iris sighed softly and nodded lightly. “I’ll take it. You’ll be fine. Just take your earrings out.” She said, her voice weary and low. I nodded and waited as she pulled out her hairpins and accessories. She and I had a tradition. After balls or events, we’d race to see who could get into bed first. Whoever won got to choose breakfast. “Ready?” I asked after she’d taken off all of her jewelry. She nodded. I smiled. “Set?” We both stood, hands waiting at our side in anticipation. “Go!” Neither of us hesitated to pull at the buttons on the back of the dresses. My top had few buttons and relied mostly on a silk tie in the front to stay closed. It was off in a moment, putting me briefly in the lead. Iris wasn’t far behind, though. My first layer of the skirts was over my head and on the chair. Then the first petticoat, and the second, and the third. I always left the hardest for last; the corset. I hated my corset but wore it to appease my mother. She put a bit too much pressure on the two of us sometimes. I’d developed tricks over the years to make it easier to remove- and more comfortable. I tied mine at the bottom rather than the top as most did. It didn’t support my breasts as much, but I didn’t have a lot going on in that department anyway, so it didn’t particularly matter to me. I grabbed the string and pulled gently. If I pulled too tight, it would tighten the knot and make it harder to remove. The strings fell away, now loose and I pulled it all out of the holes, one by one. It was a difficult process, especially considering it was all done on my back. It felt like forever until the corset was flying up over my head. Now, all I had to do was- “Done!” Iris exclaimed. Sure enough, when I turned to look, she was in her nightdress already. I growled under my breath. How did she always win? I pulled off my shift and grabbed my own nightdress. I tossed it on and I huffed in annoyance as I crawled into bed and under the covers. I could tell she was smiling and holding back laughter as she lay down next to me. “Don’t be so sour. It’s not like it mattered, anyway. The visitors get to choose breakfast.” She added. I grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it. Our shared laughter echoed in the huge space of her room, as it did most nights. We often stayed up late, recounting tales of our youth of quoting poetry or singing. Into all hours of the night, our voices could be heard chattering away. When we were little, our mother used to come in and try to quiet us down. But we were hardly deterred- we had our conferences in whispers and pantomime. “Freya?” “Yes?” “Are you sure tonight was just because you were drunk?” Iris rolled over to face me. “I’m sure. It’s not a problem. Now go to sleep, you old witch.” I replied. She giggled softly and cuddled up to me. I only wish I was as sure of that as I sounded.


End file.
